seanthecyclist on Google street view riding out to a Time Trial!! What are the chances of that!! good job I wasn't having a pre-race Jimmy Riddle in the bushes. Trace the road forward and back and you will see a few more riders.
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Thursday, 11 March 2010
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
18 Years of Me and Bike Racing - Part 1 - Spring 1988 - Winter 1991
"I didn't have a ladder high enough or a rope strong enough."
It was pretty much around now, eighteen years ago in 1992 that I decided I wanted to have a go at bike racing. Now going into my 19th straight season it has occurred to me just how much has happened in that time, and not just in cycling. For starters, at 21 years old I still had hair! I was skinny even before I started riding but I often wonder what state I'd be in now if I hadn't take up my sport. At the point I started training and racing I was eating a lot of rubbish food and drinking a lot of beer and had been since I turned 18 in 1988. Yes, there used to be a time where I could down ten pints, . . . yes ten whole pints!! before I was slipping under the table - now, alas, its four if I'm lucky before I can't handle it anymore and have to hit the wine, then I have to stop because I usually end up with most of it over my clothes.
Back then, I was able to stay up til 5am most mornings, buzzing after my shifts as a barman at a Holiday Camp, talking deeply with a small community of fellow workers and ever changing punters over topics ranging from World War 2, the meaning of life and the Dali Lama; sometimes all at the same time, I swear. This all held like a ritual, in a mates (left pic) live-in caravan sporting a Cheech and Chong style atmosphere oozing from every corner of the smoke stained and beer smelling abode. This would go on every night, and I would walk home in bow-tie, paisley waistcoat and beer-rotten shoes, smelling like a stale cigarette stubbed out in a dirty beer, ash and tissue swollen ashtray. It has to be said though that on most of these nights I never drank and certainly never smoked, that was reserved for my days off (except the smoking, never saw the point). However, I must have passively smoked half of Krakatoa and lost a years worth of sleep. Ok, now writing this I have realised two things. 1. That is probably why I now have no hair and 2. That is also probably why I think way too deep and way too much.
But it did make me realise, maybe not right at that point, that I needed to find a meaning to my life. Head full of larger than life characters, thoughts of travelling the world on a tenner and desperately trying to hang on to one single friend that didn't run away to some far off land just as I was getting to know them; I suppose I was finding it hard to adjust to being my own person, away from the guidance of my parents and taking too much advice from drifters and wasters ten to twenty years my senior.
The Holiday camp went on for four seasons. I spent every winter signing on, wandering the streets of Shanklin and hoping that a job would fall in my lap, but all the time knowing that the following March, I'd be working again on the holiday camp. It was a rut deeper than your average Isle of Wight pothole (you may notice a recurring pothole theme in my blogs, it's a cyclist thing) and I needed to get out of it. I didn't have a ladder high enough or a rope strong enough. 1989 and 1990 went on following pretty much the same old same old but I had at that point made an escape attempt and reached as far as Selby in North Yorkshire where I followed my Girlfriend to her hometown for the winter. Maggie was a Bluecoat at the camp, a small girl with a big personality and my first love. The relationship lasted most of the summer until around November, when witnessing a drunken couple trying to steal my Ford Capri Mk1 from a Doncaster multi storey car park and scaring them off (what a stupid hero), I phoned my dad, shaken up, got into a 'discussion' about me not being able to let go of my parents, then crawling home with my tail between my legs because North Yorkshire wasn't for me and falling back into the rut of seasonal bar work and alas, no girlfriend anymore.
Most my friends were in either Berlin or Barbados - apparently - and I started all over again in 1991. Now though, I had tasted freedom and a life different from what I had experienced so far since moving from Redhill in Surrey in early 1988 when I was still 17. I had two constant friends in Martin and Lee and between the three of us we formed a strong friendship and that year, 1991, we had a great time and by mid summer I met a great girl, Lucy, who first introduced me to the world of Mountain Bikes. She eventually went away too but left the legacy and hunger to get into cycling.
I bought a Mountain Bike from Offshore Sports (an establishment that pretty much shaped my future as you will find out) for £275!! and aimed it at Cowlease Hill with the intention of riding it bottom to top without stopping. I did it . . then, promptly slipped back into my youthful drunken ways, the bike collecting dust in the shed.
There was, however, a lads holiday to be had in Corfu for two weeks. Lee and I packed our bags and sought the sun. That holiday is all a bit of a blur now I think back to it but when I returned Martin and I went of to work on a Holiday Camp in Lowestoft, Suffolk for three months culminating over the Xmas and New year period. This experience alone could make a whole chapter, but I will sum it up in some random comments. Martin if you are reading this you may chuckle at some of these, anyone else, if this interests you, please ask.
Red Lipstick and Stockings, Broken Pint Pots and bloodied hands, Water Pistols at three in the morning, Condoms in a christmas card, Condom Machine in the hallway of the staff quarters, Dead Antz, £150 Jackpot, trying to find a signal with the Ariel on a rotten roof desperate to watch 10 and Bo Dereks breasts, burning a hole in the carpet with my travel iron, washing my hair disaster with a bottle of £1 Superdrug Shampoo because I had spent all my money, 'Do you want to see my Elephant impression?', smelly socks on a date with the best looking girl I ever pulled (pic above isn't that girl, that was just one of the bar girls on New Years eve), Italy 1990 on the ZX Spectrum, dodgy kebab, wine waiting and big tips, and finally Karen the so-called prostitute (no we didn't go to a prostitute, but someone had a laugh at our expense - (see Red Lipstick and stockings).
On my return from the far off lands of Suffolk the going out and getting drunk started again and I often cringe at the thought of my poor Dad, still up watching TV, probably waiting to see if I got home ok, trying to decipher my drunken babble about a great night out with Martin and Lee after the 'sobering' walk home from Colonel Bogeys, grin larger than Sandown Bay, trying not to fall off the sea wall into a high tide in the middle of winter before I most likely threw up and collapsed into bed trying to stop the room from moving around me. It's fair to say that there is no way on Earth I could have got away with any sport at the time, my ability to hold down a girlfriend that didn't run away from the Island was zero, and the thought of looking after anybody but myself was a long way off. I was never a frequent heavy drinker but most weekends were taken up going out on the beer. I was aware that at 21, I was not very fit and was drinking too much. Living in Shanklin and working at the Fisherman's Cottage pub meant that the holiday camp was behind me but my regular trips to the town and Job Centre in the winter continued. I was essentially still lazy, bored and stuck in a different but equally as big a rut as before. It didn't help that I seemed to have a few too many infrequent friends that lived in bedsits and smoked the weird smelly stuff. Christmas came and went, I had a job lined up in a Hotel and at the Fisherman's Cottage again for the summer and it was back to waiting for work to start
It was 1992 and time for a change. I got the bike out of the shed in January, and so started a new era.
To be continued . . . .
Most my friends were in either Berlin or Barbados - apparently - and I started all over again in 1991. Now though, I had tasted freedom and a life different from what I had experienced so far since moving from Redhill in Surrey in early 1988 when I was still 17. I had two constant friends in Martin and Lee and between the three of us we formed a strong friendship and that year, 1991, we had a great time and by mid summer I met a great girl, Lucy, who first introduced me to the world of Mountain Bikes. She eventually went away too but left the legacy and hunger to get into cycling.
Red Lipstick and Stockings, Broken Pint Pots and bloodied hands, Water Pistols at three in the morning, Condoms in a christmas card, Condom Machine in the hallway of the staff quarters, Dead Antz, £150 Jackpot, trying to find a signal with the Ariel on a rotten roof desperate to watch 10 and Bo Dereks breasts, burning a hole in the carpet with my travel iron, washing my hair disaster with a bottle of £1 Superdrug Shampoo because I had spent all my money, 'Do you want to see my Elephant impression?', smelly socks on a date with the best looking girl I ever pulled (pic above isn't that girl, that was just one of the bar girls on New Years eve), Italy 1990 on the ZX Spectrum, dodgy kebab, wine waiting and big tips, and finally Karen the so-called prostitute (no we didn't go to a prostitute, but someone had a laugh at our expense - (see Red Lipstick and stockings).
On my return from the far off lands of Suffolk the going out and getting drunk started again and I often cringe at the thought of my poor Dad, still up watching TV, probably waiting to see if I got home ok, trying to decipher my drunken babble about a great night out with Martin and Lee after the 'sobering' walk home from Colonel Bogeys, grin larger than Sandown Bay, trying not to fall off the sea wall into a high tide in the middle of winter before I most likely threw up and collapsed into bed trying to stop the room from moving around me. It's fair to say that there is no way on Earth I could have got away with any sport at the time, my ability to hold down a girlfriend that didn't run away from the Island was zero, and the thought of looking after anybody but myself was a long way off. I was never a frequent heavy drinker but most weekends were taken up going out on the beer. I was aware that at 21, I was not very fit and was drinking too much. Living in Shanklin and working at the Fisherman's Cottage pub meant that the holiday camp was behind me but my regular trips to the town and Job Centre in the winter continued. I was essentially still lazy, bored and stuck in a different but equally as big a rut as before. It didn't help that I seemed to have a few too many infrequent friends that lived in bedsits and smoked the weird smelly stuff. Christmas came and went, I had a job lined up in a Hotel and at the Fisherman's Cottage again for the summer and it was back to waiting for work to start
It was 1992 and time for a change. I got the bike out of the shed in January, and so started a new era.
To be continued . . . .
Sunday, 7 March 2010
East Surrey RC Hardriders 29.9-mile TT
| Well, that was pretty ok. 7th place. I think there must have been around 60-70 starters. In fact Martin Piper and I didn't do bad for a couple of back country Islanders against mainland competition. The competition today was pretty tough for such an early season event. There were a few non starters, notably Richard Prebble who was apparently ill. Warming up on his turbo next to us in the pub car park was Wouter Sybrandy - eventual race winner - looking pretty lean and ready for action. Wouter has already won at least two events this season, so in my opinion was the favourite today. Other notable names to me happened to be all the riders that beat me and a few that I actually managed to beat so can't complain. A top ten is a pleasing result and slightly better than I aimed for. Not sure where I'm going to find the extra wattage to make up some of that time lost, there were some pretty impressive rides above me, but looking at the top ten I seem to have slotted into 'no-mans' land once again!! The only rider on 1h13mins with a fairly large gap ahead of me and behind. Darren Barclay in 6th is a name I know form CycloCross, but raced against rarely, and a classy rider, so to be a min and 20secs down was ok over 30miles; still a bit of a gap to close, but not too bad given it's only March and feel I have a lot more to give. Martin came in 11th in 1hr 15.55 so we did ok as a team. Just a shame there was only two of us. At the start, it felt like it could be a bad day. How slow did I feel? Well, the answer . . like a old granny on a shopping bike 'even with' an electric motor . . that slow. It was of course the cold headwind. Anyone with the ability of a fast start will have gained today. Martin had 'Ice-Cream' head, even though he has just spent three weeks working in Virginia at -15degrees learning about how horses swam form one island to another a hundred years ago whilst dealing with the fright of a Virginian Redneck using breast bearing 'put off' tactics in a game of Pool (ask him sometime, oh and, it wasn't the horses dealing with a bare breasted Redneck, just Martin. Sorry, I will shut up now) Back to the race. Suddenly I get a freaky moment where, even though I had never ridden this course before, everything became very familiar. I've been here before!! Well, it turns out I had, Reigate Heath. I hadn't seen this part of the world for twenty years and I was suddenly on a nostalgia trip (or was it neuralgia - well it was only two degrees) I'm supposed to be racing!!! Concentrate you fool, it's bad enough that I have bloody Muse (Unnnatural Selection . . again!!) running over and over in my head. See, that's my problem with Time Trialling. What with wondering what I'm having for dinner later and the same song repeating my head, I forget that I'm supposed to be racing. Don't get me wrong. I like time trialling, but it aint Cyclo-Cross where one slip up will lose you ten places, its time trialling, and half the skill is keeping focussed, mainly on the constant nagging, but just slightly bearable pain. Ok, so we are only three miles in and I've lost my concentration already, but I reckon I'm feeling ok. Now we have slight tail wind going mainly downhill from Reigate to Dorking on the A24. Bloody potholes!!! they aren't just a unique feature of the Isle of Wight after all. Within a few minutes I see Paul Jones walking back the other way (obviously punctured) looking well pissed off. It's at this point I start to move out a bit further in the hope of avoiding potholes at the curbside but oh no, they were just as bad 2-3 ft out, and the, nutter, mainland drivers still trying to squeeze past me at what feels like 80mph (don't forget you can't go in a straight line on the Isle of Wight for more than about twenty seconds - and that's almost NOT an exaggeration). I have to say for that stretch I didn't really concentrate on the effort much, it felt more like survival. Then I reached the Dorking A24 turn off and . . four cars all stopped. Yes, there was a gap down the side but there were also foot deep potholes and I swear there was a marshall shouting 'Allez, allez' to me. I wasn't even moving. Tsk!!! I'm back off again and onto the first climb, and I felt good. Happy. Caught Tony Parker and then set about the long stretch down the A24 complete with tailwind. I'd guessed that this whole section of probably about ten miles would be pretty straightforward and it was, fairly flat, fast and pothole free. I felt a bit sluggish and had to take it easy/hardish. Whether I lost time or gained is questionable but there is certainly a LOT of room for improvement in this area of time trialling ability. I know I can ride better than that. There was the knowledge though that the return leg on the back roads, into a headwind would be hard work so I guesss there was some holding back going on. I apologise for the lack of local place names here, I hadn't a clue where I was but I knew I was heading towards Horsham. Ok, just remembered whilst writing this bilge, I have the course map. So, I'm now at the Rusper roundabout and time for headwind, hill and maybe ten miles to the finish. Back to feeling like the old granny again. I hate the wind and now we have a sign saying 1 in 10 hill. In the car, on the drive round before, (and mid-conversation about swimming horses http://www.assateagueisland.com/ponyswim/ponyswim.htm if any 1 is interested) this hill looked like nothing, but when I actually reached it I was a bit caught out. I had to change down to the little ring mid climb which almost brought the sound of a snapping chain (Martin actually slipped his chain here and had to stop for 15 seconds) and my left foot popped out of the pedal twice, mid stroke (no comments please), before I reached the top, but it was ok, I felt good on the climb and then remembered there was a five miles to go sign somewhere. How long did that b'std take to appear! Too long. I hate countdowns. Five miles - when you know you have ten minutes to reach your 'hoped for target' - means you ain't going to make it on roads like that. But I bloody well tried. In the process I double whammeyed a pothole with front and rear wheel (that on £700 carbon planet X wheels, cringing to say the least), spent thirty seconds looking down to see if I'd flatted (mistake) and then had to CycloCross style, last second, bunny hop an even deeper pothole cos I wasn't concentrating. Three miles to go. Oh. come on, someone is taking the piss, how can two miles seems so far. I knew though that with three miles to go it was pretty much 6-8 minutes of burying it. I was hoping for a 1h 13 at this point and by the finish, that came quicker than expected in those last three miles, I bagged 1h 13mins 49 secs and 7th place, and £30 for my efforts. It's still early, plenty left yet. Now what do I do for training? I need some more speed. Do I start the intervals now? or leave them for a few weeks. I know, I will have a bottle of red and have a think. Oh dear, it seems I've finished the bottle of red. TTFN - Seanthecyclist Full Results: http://tiny.cc/JyUQU East Surrey RC Hardriders 32-mile TT (Reigate, Surrey): | |
| 1 Wouter Sybrandy (Sigma Sport RT) | 1:07:44 |
| 2 Pete Tadros (In Gear-Quickvit RT) | 1:09:13 |
| 3 Steve Dennis (East Grinstead CC) | 1:09:42 |
| 4 Mike Coyle (VC Etoile) | 1:11:21 |
| 5 Malcolm Davies (Kent Cycles) | 1:12:07 |
| 6 Darren Barclay (Arctic Premier RT) | 1:12:23 |
| 7 Sean Williams (Wightlink Offshore RT) | 1:13:49 |
| 8 Chaz Hollosi (Gemini BC) | 1:15:02 |
| 9 Roger Smith (South Downs Bikes) | 1:15:09 |
| 10 Eamonn Deane (Bournemouth Jubilee Wheelers) | 1:15:22 |
| Team: Kingston Wheelers (Phil Ember, Stephen Irwin, Ben Elliott) | 3:59:30 |
| Veterans: Steve Dennis |
Thursday, 4 March 2010
March is here . . .Time to Race!!!
Been out of it for a couple of weeks but been hard at it training ready for Sunday. Was disappointed that the race two weeks ago was cancelled due to ice!!! (I didn't see any) but I can make amends, hopefully, in the East Surrey Hardriders event on Sunday. This is a 30mile course starting from Reigate, my old patch before I moved to the Isle of Wight 22 years ago. I wasn't a cyclist then and had barely passed my driving test so never really got out the local area so I don't actually have a clue what this course is like, even though it was on my doorstep, pretty much literally.
30miles!! For the first time ever, the thought of the distance doesn't bother me. Anything over ten miles used to put the chills up me - not sure why though, as I used to race 2hour Mountain Bike events - but since breaking out of the winter training rut of thirty minute indoor trainer sessions winter after winter I feel more prepared than ever before. Since October I've religiously ridden an hour every lunchtime (thanks Rog and Dawn), fast and slow, Monday to Thursday in all weathers as well as 50-100miles at the weekends. A quick glance at weekly hours shows almost double what I normally do in the winter months. That doesn't mean anything yet though. I'm confident, but unsure exactly what that training has done to me. I feel fit and I feel quite fast, the power is up (not as much as I'd hoped) and today I discovered my weight is about 2kg less!! (although that fluctuates more than it should)
The last three weeks I've concentrated on threshold sessions ranging from 1minute (when I'm totally hanging from previous efforts) to 35minute (fresh from the start of a session) intervals at 100-105% race power. The idea being to ride slightly over comfortable but under all-out in the hope I can raise my threshold and tolerance to pain in the most uncomfortable, prolonged discomfort you could possibly imagine in the middle of a work day!!. I can manage 35minutes at 370watts now but find I need an easier day the next day, although today I managed 6x5 minutes at 370watts and found it just doable, and that with no recovery day beforehand. Tomorrow though is commutes to work only. End of last season I was doing myself in to peak out at 365watts, but I also had a lot of races behind me and was getting tired. This Sunday will be a bit of an eye opener, the startsheet shows over 70 riders with some of the regions top time triallists on the list. If I can get top ten I will be happy, but top 15 will still be a good result. Of course, I'm hoping for better, but realistically that is going to be tough.
Anyway, its been a bit of a strange start to 2010 for me, a lot seems to have happened in such a short space of time, haven't really raced since early December (apart from the Andover event a few weeks back that really just felt like a torture session) but looking forward to the first proper race of the season; will be good to get back into some kind of rhythm.
30miles!! For the first time ever, the thought of the distance doesn't bother me. Anything over ten miles used to put the chills up me - not sure why though, as I used to race 2hour Mountain Bike events - but since breaking out of the winter training rut of thirty minute indoor trainer sessions winter after winter I feel more prepared than ever before. Since October I've religiously ridden an hour every lunchtime (thanks Rog and Dawn), fast and slow, Monday to Thursday in all weathers as well as 50-100miles at the weekends. A quick glance at weekly hours shows almost double what I normally do in the winter months. That doesn't mean anything yet though. I'm confident, but unsure exactly what that training has done to me. I feel fit and I feel quite fast, the power is up (not as much as I'd hoped) and today I discovered my weight is about 2kg less!! (although that fluctuates more than it should)
The last three weeks I've concentrated on threshold sessions ranging from 1minute (when I'm totally hanging from previous efforts) to 35minute (fresh from the start of a session) intervals at 100-105% race power. The idea being to ride slightly over comfortable but under all-out in the hope I can raise my threshold and tolerance to pain in the most uncomfortable, prolonged discomfort you could possibly imagine in the middle of a work day!!. I can manage 35minutes at 370watts now but find I need an easier day the next day, although today I managed 6x5 minutes at 370watts and found it just doable, and that with no recovery day beforehand. Tomorrow though is commutes to work only. End of last season I was doing myself in to peak out at 365watts, but I also had a lot of races behind me and was getting tired. This Sunday will be a bit of an eye opener, the startsheet shows over 70 riders with some of the regions top time triallists on the list. If I can get top ten I will be happy, but top 15 will still be a good result. Of course, I'm hoping for better, but realistically that is going to be tough.
Anyway, its been a bit of a strange start to 2010 for me, a lot seems to have happened in such a short space of time, haven't really raced since early December (apart from the Andover event a few weeks back that really just felt like a torture session) but looking forward to the first proper race of the season; will be good to get back into some kind of rhythm.
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